


Flying Again

by tattooedsappho



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Differently Abled, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, We Don't Want Your Pity, Xiomara is Rolanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7014283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattooedsappho/pseuds/tattooedsappho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two who lost much escape the pity of the world with each other, finding friendship and something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying Again

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** All characters are copyright their respective owners; I'm not making any money or intending to harm/offend anyone.  
>  **Notes:** Thanks to “bee” for her impromptu beta-ing services. This was originally written for Femmefest (livejournal) back in 2012.

Curses and hexes were flying through the air, rending the black night with brilliant flares of colour. The screams of the triumphant casters mingled with those of the victims of the various magical creatures that were also taking part in the battle, producing a cacophony of screams, shouts and wails.

Xiomara Hooch whipped through the air, flanked by a myriad of volunteers. Professional Quidditch players that had answered Gwenog Jones' call when she was alerted by Slughorn mixed with witches and wizards who simply had access to a decent broom and the strong desire to fight against the Dark Lord.

Angry shouting drew her attention and Xiomara diverted from her course to cast a stunning spell at the Death Eater that Tonks had just saved a sixth year Hufflepuff from. Raising her hand in acknowledgement of the shouted thanks she never saw the arc of light heading toward her until it was too late. Pain exploded across her face as she lost not only the vision in her left eye but control of her broom as well. Crashing to the ground she struggled to right herself and assume a defensive position but the fall had injured one of her legs.

As she attempted to lift herself Xiomara found that she was in the path of a raging giant. The witch was knocked backward, unseen in the darkness by the brute, only to have her injured leg crushed under the enormous foot of another giant as it lumbered by.

Her scream of agony caught the attention of Tonks, who had seen her crash, and the Auror sprinted in her direction – the sudden movement causing a keenly aimed Avada Kedavra to fly through the fiery red locks the metamorphmagus possessed at the moment and score the bark of the Whomping Willow.

Witches and wizards on both sides of the battle found themselves assaulted by whipping branches as the angered tree lashed out to defend itself from the perceived attack. In the thick of a life and death struggle enemies reached a temporary truce as they fought side by side to subdue the plant life that sought to thrash the life out of any moving object within range of it's lethal branches. Tonks sent a stunner flying ahead of her, dodged under the frozen tree limb and scrambled over ground turned muddy with the mixture of blood from werewolf victims and rain.

The last thing Hooch remembered before passing out was the unexpected look on Tonks' face. It wasn't horror, or anger, or shock, those she was expecting – Xiomara had, after all, just been hexed out of the sky and trampled by a giant. She should not look good. She should evoke gasps and cries of horror at the ghastly sight of her mangled body, especially if the pain she was experiencing was anything to go by. No, what she saw in Tonks' eyes was pity and she found herself fearful to contemplate what would inspire such emotion in an Auror.

The world around her was hazy as Xiomara opened her eyes. A headache had already taken root while she was sleeping, it was what woke her up, and as she struggled to orient herself it seemed like a hundred drums were beating out a hundred different rhythms inside her head.

Her face felt strange, as if it were covered by a veil but she could not see one. Moving her hands to her head, Xiomara felt the bandage and realized why everything seemed a bit off – her depth perception was completely gone, her left eye was covered with gauze.

Poppy Pomfrey rushed over, alerted by the monitoring spells she had placed on Hooch's bed, and quickly engaged the Brooms Mistress.

“Madam Hooch, Xiomara, it's good to have you back. How do you feel?”

“Like I've just finished being a live target at beater practice for the Harpies.” Xiomara replied with an expression that was half grin, half grimace.

“You've had a rough run of it. There are a few things we need to talk about, you were very seriously injured.”

“My eye?”

“Yes. And … and your leg. Magic can only do so much.” 

“What about my leg?” Xiomara struggled to appear calm, unable as she was to prevent the flood of panic that was quickly surging through her system. She had known Poppy for a long time and had the utmost confidence in the mediwitch's abilities. If there was something wrong with her leg that Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix then it was worse than anything she could have ever imagined.

Poppy wrung her hands, failure etched into her face, as she admitted the limits of her abilities. Her voice wavered and she took a calming breath before explaining the complications to Xiomara.

“There needs to be something to work with, something to guide the magic as it heals you. Your leg was … it was crushed so badly that the Skelegrow started growing spikes of bone in all directions. In order to save your life we needed to remove your leg or the growth would have severed an artery.”

“I'm sure you did everything you could Poppy.” Xiomara struggled to keep her voice even as tears formed. Grasping Poppy's hand she squeezed tight. “You are the best mediwitch I know. You did not fail me, I am still alive.”

_I'll never fly again. My leg is gone, my eye probably is too come to think of it. What school would want a flying instructor that can't even keep up with the first years? Are there even brooms I could ride with a missing leg? Oh Merlin, I'm going to end up with some wooden monstrosity like Mad-Eye had aren't I? I'll have to get one of those modified brooms that look like some sort of muggle contraption, there is no way anyone would let me near a Quidditch pitch with one of those things. What will I do now?_

Xiomara recuperated quickly, the years of continuing her professional Quidditch workouts had paid off in more ways than one. Faced with the prospect of having a wooden leg she had refused a magical eye and chose to don a simple black eye patch; she preferred pirate jokes to Moody jokes any day. Her stay in the Hospital Wing was as short as Poppy would allow it to be and she was back to stretching and upper body workouts before she was even released from the mediwitch's capable care. Others claimed she was awesomely inspiring, she just wanted to fly again.

In an attempt to make the best of a bad situation, Xiomara had her leg made out of birch to match her wand and it was emblazoned with magically animated Snitches and Bludgers. If people are going to stare at my leg, I might as well give them something to stare at. 

Still limping upon her release from the hospital wing she joined the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Walking slowly but deliberately with the cane Minerva had lent her, Xiomara made her way to the Quidditch Pitch and found that Gwenog Jones stayed with some other players, beginning the reconstruction already.

Hooch spent days rebuilding the Quidditch Pitch, limping about with the assistance of her borrowed cane and refusing any offers of assistance from her comrades. The players she was working with understood, or at least appeared to, what she was going through and stopped their offers before the first day of work had even ended. 

The other well wishers, however, thought Xiomara was just being stubborn. Never-mind having to face the possibility that the one thing you love will never be yours again. Never-mind knowing that the world will never look at you the same. Never-mind watching your dreams crumble.

Minerva, of course, kept Xiomara on as the Flying Instructor. She was forced to hire out referees for the Quidditch matches but, on the upside, it allowed for the Brooms Mistress to help her former house of Ravenclaw with strategy and practices more than she had been able to as an “impartial referee.”

The first years were scared of her, most of the other students regarded her with a mixture of pity and relief but the Quidditch teams at least treated her the same. She spent more time at the pitch than ever before, tutoring players from all teams. 

Xiomara developed a charm that prevented a Bludger from leaving a designated area. It allowed for one person to engage in ground-based beater practice without giving the dangerous object the time and distance to build up too much speed before impact. When the Bludger hit the invisible barrier it responded as if it had been hit back at the player by another beater . Typically, the Bludger would return on its own due to the nature of the ball; this charm was perfect for intense practice sessions since the Bludger could be returned after travelling 10 meters or even less.

Hooch spent more and more time on the pitch, her Beater's bat in hand. While she started out using the spell to keep a closer eye on the Beaters to critique their form she eventually found herself craving the challenge of a closer range practice session. Her limp had all but disappeared after her first week back and while she was still unable to balance properly on a broom, much to her chagrin, she felt compelled to keep her skills honed. She wanted to jump back on the pitch the moment she could fly properly again, she wanted to PLAY.

While the Quidditch teams treated her no differently, Xiomara couldn't say the same for the faculty. The others were obviously trying not to treat her differently, as it was what she wanted, but it was always awkward. Minerva understood but as Headmistress she did not have as much time for her old friend as she used to, and while their time together was welcome it was too short and far between for Hooch's liking. She slowly began pushing the other staff away, still appearing for meals in the Great Hall but not socializing after staff meetings like she used to.

Xiomara was usually found battling with her broom or curled over a parchment. While she could hover on a broom just fine she found that the balance and control of the thing was severely impacted by her wooden leg. The air moved around it differently, it was shaped differently than her real leg and it didn't weigh the same. While some of the details could be fixed with Hooch getting used to her new appendage, manoeuvrability depended greatly on the ability of the rider to streamline against her broom and then use their legs to help balance after quick stops.

More and more of Hooch's time was spent outside with her broom, trying and failing repeatedly to fly a simple lap around the pitch. She would spin sideways or over correct, she would hover fine only to list to the side as she tried to fly a straight line or she would manage to fly straight but turn erratically and lose control when she tried to circle around.

Those who offered her advice were ignored; they didn't understand her and they never would. Nobody would ever understand her again and Xiomara was starting to slowly accept that. She was alone.

The Ravenclaw Hufflepuff Quidditch match was well under way when a witch with fiery spikes made her way along the stands to where Hooch was seated. Tonks wore Hufflepuff colours but was not harassed by the Ravenclaw students – they had heard or seen how the Auror had carried the Brooms Mistress to safety and nodded their thanks between their cheers. Ravenclaw stood a good chance to win the Quidditch cup this year because of the extra tutelage Hooch gave them thanks to Tonks' actions. Sitting next to Xiomara, Tonks nudged her with an elbow.

“Good match, eh Hooch?”

“I suppose,” Xiomara muttered, uninterested in making conversation with whichever pity-filled soul decided to try to make her smile.

“I never did thank you for saving my life. When you called out I ran and in doing so, managed to dodge a particularly lethal spell. Thank you.”

Xiomara turned to see who had sat next to her.

“Oh, it's you. You're welcome. I guess I should thank you for saving me but I'm still trying to decide if I would be better off dead; I'm not sure if I should thank you or not.” Xiomara shrugged warily.

“I lost Remus.”

“What?”

“My husband, the father of my child. I can't imagine it's the same but I think the enormity of it, the feeling of loss and the confusion might be similar. I've always looked up to you Madam Hooch; hell you were a Beater for the Harpies – I wanted to BE you! If you ever want to spend time with someone who understands what a crumbling world feels like, maybe share a drink and sit in awkward silence that is a little less awkward because she gets your pain, send me an owl.”

“I...”

“Just think about it. I'm going back to the Hufflepuff side so I can cheer for my old house, you know how to get in touch with me. If you guys beat us you better take the Quidditch Cup, at least then we will lose to the best team out there.” Tonks winked and stood to walk away, changing her hair to yellow spikes with black tips as she crossed out of Ravenclaw territory.

Xiomara watched the younger witch leave and slowly smiled for the first time in a long time.

“I will,” she whispered softly.

A few weeks later Tonks walked across the grounds only to find Xiomara practising with a Bludger.

“Wotcher, Hooch!” Tonks waved as she grew closer to the older witch. She had received an owl earlier in the week asking her to meet Xiomara on the Quidditch Pitch.

“Grab a bat Tonks, lets see how much of your school days you remember.” Xiomara said, cracking a sly grin. With a flick of her wand she dropped the charm that contained the Bludger and took a defensive stance, the Bludger soaring far off with the impact of her last hit.

“I've saw the way you were practising with that thing, I don't think I stand much of a chance!” Tonks laughed. The pair spent the next hour lobbing the Bludger back and forth, Tonks surprised more at how easy it was for her to get back into practice than at the mobility of her old not-as-disabled-as-most-would-think Quidditch mentor.

“Whew, that was fun.” Xiomara smiled. “I've yet to find an adult here willing to spar with me. I'm not going to ask one of the students, they shouldn't have to entertain their old curmudgeon of a Brooms Mistress.”

“You are not a curmudgeon. Anyone thrown for a loop like you were would be surly from time to time. Especially dealing with a walking pity party every time you try to hang out with your old friends.”

“How...” Xiomara trailed off, eyeing the Auror strangely.

“I get the same thing. I'm sick of it. I don't need to be treated with kid gloves. Yeah, it hurts. But you know what? I've got mum and Teddy and my job keeps me busy. Some day I'll find someone else who makes me happy and life will go on.”

Xiomara nodded and sat next to Tonks on the cool ground, passing her the water bottle she had been sipping from. “I don't want pity and that is all that anyone aside from Minerva and the Quidditch teams seem to have for me. I'll fly again, I might not ever referee again thanks to this,” Xiomara pointed to her eye patch, “but I'll at least be able to hold my own in a match. You don't need eyes to know when a Bludger is coming.”

“I remember you used to have us drill blindfolded, it was hard.”

“Nothing in my life is going to be easy again, why should Quidditch be the exception?”

Tonks opened her mouth as if to reply but then shut it again. She smiled at Xiomara and inclined her head in understanding. The two sat in silence for a while, comfortable with the lack of expectations and sympathy. As the sun set and the sky darkened the witches stood and stretched.

“Come back next week?” Xiomara tilted her head at Tonks, adapting an air of nonchalance.

“Ya. This was fun, thanks for the workout.” Tonks smiled at her former mentor.

The two witches met up over the next few weeks, hitting a Bludger around and pushing each other further and further as they were a solid match ability-wise.

“Why didn't you try out after graduation? I'm sure some team would have snapped you right up.”

“I thought about it but I wanted to make a difference. I thought I could do more as an Auror than as a professional athlete. Turns out I might have been wrong, you and your friends did amazing in the Battle – there are dozens of students here who owe you their lives.”

Xiomara rubbed her wooden leg and sighed. “I know.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don't be. You're right. We did do a lot. It just hurts to be remembered for what I lost than for what I gave or for who I was before it all happened.”

“You wanna fly?”

“Don't joke like that. You know I still can't manage a respectable lap around the pitch.”

“I'm not joking. Do you wanna fly?”

“I don't ride bitch.”

“Then sit in front of me.” Tonks crossed her arms over her chest arching her eyebrow at Xiomara.

Rolling her eyes Hooch stood. “Fine. But I warn you now, I'm quite unmanageable on a broom.”

Tonks stood and pulled something out of her pocket. With a swish and flick she had returned her broom to it's proper size.

“You planned this.” Hooch narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

“Yep. Now are you gonna get on?” Tonks smiled.

Hooch straddled the broom in front of the younger witch and grasped the handle. She inhaled sharply as she felt her friend come in contact with her back and wind her arms under her own and kicking off. 

“Just relax, we'll hover for a bit before we go anywhere. Put your feet on the inside of the supports, I'm going to hold them in place with mine and that should stabilize us just fine.” Tonks pinned Xiomara's legs in place and leaned forward, her chin resting on the slightly shorter witch's shoulder. “See? No worries.” Glad the older witch couldn't see the colour change that had come over her when they began what was the most intimate embrace she had had since before her late husband has passed away, Tonks hovered for a few more moments.

“Are you going to move?”

“I'm sorry, do I make you uncomfortable?” Tonks rushed.

“I meant on the broom. Are we going to fly or just hover all day?” Xiomara ignored Tonks' question and laced her fingers through the younger witch's, keeping their hands in contact with the broom handle the entire time.

“Oh, yeah.” Tonks gripped the handle tighter, squeezing Hooch's hands in the process, and did a slow lap of the Pitch.

“How in Merlin's name did you do that?” Hooch inquired, excitement evident in her voice.

“I spelled my boot heavier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with my legs outside yours the wind resistance is negated. You know how to ride a broom so your balance isn't a problem, it's the disparity in the weight. So I spelled my boot heavier, it counter acts the extra weight from your leg and with both of us on the broom it is perfectly balanced.”

“That's a very Ravenclaw approach.”

“That's what I get for hanging out with one so much lately.” Tonks quipped. “Let's have some fun!” She leaned forward, raising the broom slightly, soaring into the sky.

As they flew lazy circles around the castle, Xiomara found herself crying tears of joy.

“You okay?” Tonks whispered with concern into her ear, noticing Hooch hadn't relaxed completely and that there was a salty dampness on the older witch's skin.

“Part of me never thought I would be able to do this again. Thank you.”

“You're more than welcome.” Tonks kissed Xiomara's cheek softly before she realized what she was doing. For her part, the older witch said nothing but finally relaxed completely into Tonks' arms and ran her thumb up and down the younger witch's.

Tonks smiled to herself and gradually increased the speed of their flight. The pair spent the next hour dancing amongst the clouds, flying slow circles and zig zagging at near lightning speed, laughing together and just enjoying the sensation of sharing a broom.

When they finally touched down by the broom shed Hooch dismounted first and Tonks found herself face to face with the older witch, who wore a bright smile for the first time in a long while.

“I can never thank you enough for this, for today, for flying again.” Xiomara pulled Tonks into a warm embrace. 

“It was my pleasure, I'm glad I helped you find your smile.” She brushed her thumb over Hooch's cheek as the older witch relaxed her hug and met yellow eyes with a slight blush.

“I think I found more than just my smile.” Hooch smirked as she captured Tonks' lips in a gentle kiss. As she pulled away she felt strong arms encircle her waist and keep her close, the younger witch deepening their kiss and prolonging their embrace. She lost herself in that perfect moment, the walls that Tonks' had slowly been chipping away at crumbled completely.

“I didn't plan this, you know. I planned the broom part but not this. I just wanted to help you smile.” Tonks whispered as she smiled, nose to nose with her mentor.

“To be honest, I'm not sure I would have minded if you did.” Hooch stepped backwards into the broom shed, pulling Tonks with her until she felt her desk against the small of her back. Hopping up onto the desk, she embraced the younger witch again and seared her lips with a kiss. Tonks growled softly, nipping at Hooch's lower lip and pressing their bodies together.

Xiomara wrapped her legs around the younger witch's waist and returned her kiss with matching fervour. Tonks ran her hands down her torso and up under her lover's shirt, dragging her nails down the flesh of her back and leaving a trail of scratch marks over Hooch's previously unmarked flesh. Her lips trailed down the older witch's neck, stopping every now and again to kiss or nip gently and prompting Xiomara to moan in pleasure. Pulling Tonks even closer to herself, Xiomara whispered a spell and wandlessly banished their clothes. Flesh met flesh and both women gasped at the sensation.

Tonks pushed Xiomara down onto the desk and leaned forward against the other witch. She kissed soft skin as she covered Hooch's body with her own, moving from neck to shoulder to breast to stomach. Nails dug into her back and flexed every time she found a particularly pleasurable spot on her lover's body. Teeth gently nibbled at nipples before they were caressed by a tongue and then pulled into the warmth of a welcoming mouth. Nonsensical utterances streamed from Xiomara's lips as her body was overcome with pleasure, begging for more as Tonks explored her with fingers and mouth.

A kiss to Hooch's navel led to a tongue trailing across sensitive flesh to well defined hips before arching back across a muscled thigh to the apex of the older witch's legs. The neatly trimmed hair was the same striking shade of silver that graced her head and Tonks hummed with appreciation as she slowly split Xiomara's labia with her warm tongue. Trailing the muscle slowly up and down she made sure to greet the older woman's clitoris with each pass. Xiomara writhed with delight against the desk and called encouragement to her lover. Tonks smiled, continuing her oral ministrations.

Xiomara arched her back as Tonks grazed her teeth gently over her clitoris and the younger witch took that opportunity to place both of Hooch's legs over her shoulders. The older woman was now even more open to her and she plunged her tongue into Xiomara's exposed quim. Lips met lips, nose twitched against clitoris and Tonks lost herself in the enormously pleasurable task that was the eating out of one Xiomara Hooch, Brooms Mistress. For her part, Xiomara bucked and screamed as pleasure coursed through her body, her nerves ablaze with unmitigated passion and her mind muddled with ecstasy.

Tonks moved her oral attention to Xiomara's clitoris and filled her pussy with three fingers. She curled them as she pulled back, twisting them slightly before pressing into her lover again. With each thrust she fluttered her tongue over Hooch's clitoris, rolling it gently between her teeth and leading her lover to even higher ranges of pleasure. The tell-tale quivering began in Xiomara's feet and progressed up her legs until her entire body was bucking against Tonks' face and hand, smearing evidence of Hooch's passionate response over the younger woman's face.

“Smile for me baby, give me your joy.”

Moments after Tonks' encouragement, Xiomara tensed her legs. Grinding her quim against the metamorphmagus' face she screamed her orgasm as her body writhed with uncontrolled passion. Tonks rode out her bucks, continuing her oral ministrations as she flexed her fingers against the tightly clamped muscles of Hooch's inner walls and savouring the sensation of Hooch, completely unreserved and unguarded, rutting against her face like a wild animal.

“Nymphadora...”

“You know I hate that name.”

“Tonks seems so … impersonal at a time like this. That isn't your name any more.”

“It is if I say so.”

“Tonks then.” Xiomara sat up, meeting the mischievous grin of the younger witch who stood over her. “I … where do we go from here?”

“Preferably back to your rooms to continue this in a slightly more comfortable place. Lets not ruin this with talk, yeah?”

“We've done well with silence so far.” Xiomara smiled as she summoned their clothes. “But I do intend to make you scream once I have you to myself again.” Xiomara clasped Tonks' hand in her hers and the pair walked up to the castle, Xiomara smiling like she used to and Tonks' hair glimmering all the colours of the rainbow.


End file.
